


Hanging on a feeling (too scared to dream and too dumb to die)

by futacookies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, James Bond References, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), a bit of angst, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futacookies/pseuds/futacookies
Summary: «I’m certainly not running for the “Boyfriend of the year” award.», Futakuchi said, smiling openly.«You’re not my boyfriend.»«I could be.»
Relationships: Ennoshita Chikara/Futakuchi Kenji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Hanging on a feeling (too scared to dream and too dumb to die)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverMoonT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonT/gifts).



> This is for my beloved T! I hope you have the best birthday ever and that you canenjoy this story!

H anging on a feeling

_(too scared too dream and too dumb to die)_

Actually, it was all James Bond’s fault.

Ennoshita always loved those films and becoming a secret agent was a charming idea: training to become a secret agent wasn’t as charming, sure, and he was often about to quit (he actually did it, once, and he didn’t like to think about it), but now he could say he was proud of how far he got.

His department, Karasuno, wasn’t the most brilliant, but lately – _between over-excited rookies and Daichi’s promotion, which could led to his promotion –_ it was pretty interesting being around.

So he was almost disappointed about having to leave right then, on his own. But his job was still top priority, and he had quite the tactful role: going undercover with the Prime Minister’s security, in order to protect him from likely terroristic attacks during his two weeks diplomatic journey across the country.

He would read the papers about the details – _a huge and threatening envelope resting on his desk, with “Japan 2020” written on it –_ during the journey.

***

_Maybe he should have read the papers sooner._

They couldn’t have changed a thing, that was sure, because he wouldn’t have refuse the task anyway, but at least he would have been prepared for the tragedy his eyes were witnessing.

Futakuchi Kenji.

Former Agent 006 from the Dateko department, actual Agent 002, chief of said department, who hadn’t been his partner since Kyoto 2018 – _luckily._ (Former boyfriend? Lover? Crush? Former something whom Ennoshita had been very good avoiding – _kind of. But Kyoto 2018 didn’t really count._ )

Said agent, whom he didn’t even want to think about, was staring at him with the biggest smirk, clearly looking for troubles and Ennoshita would have gladly punched him if only they weren’t working – _and the chances of punching him during the mission were far from zero._

«What are _you_ doing here?»

«Hello to you as well, Ennoshita-kun! It’s so nice to see you here! I’m doing great, thanks for asking!», Futakuchi exclaimed ironically.

«That’s not what I asked you.»

«I agree, working together will be delightful!», he added, bowing a little.

That biblic punishment would have lasted two weeks, then he could’ve come back to his department – _if he was to survive without murdering anyone, he would’ve never complained about Tanaka and Nishinoya anymore._

«If you had properly done your homework», Futakuchi said mockingly, «you would have known I was sent here to prevent any bombing attack – _which is dumb, if you want ask me_. I know how to defuse a bomb, sure, but I can’t find them by sniffing the air!», he stated. Then, not waiting for an answer, he kept talking. «Why did they send _you_? Wasn’t anyone else available? That big guy so easily scared? The feral tiny one? That baldy that still threaten to beat the shit out of me?»

«Tanaka is not bald.», Ennoshita couldn’t help but point out.

«So you knew he’s still mad at me! I bet you’re the one fueling his hatred!»

« _Everyone_ is still mad at you. Asahi-san didn’t show up at work for a week.»

A few years before, when they were still rookies, Futakuchi had the _lovely_ idea to prank poor Asahi-san: he managed to convince him one of his collegues, Aone, was a criminal undercover, which led to a rushed investigation and an arrest. When the misunderstanding was cleared, Asahi-san was so mortified that everyone believed he would have quitted.

« _You_ are not mad at me.»

Ennoshita wanted to clarify that yes, he was mad, desperately mad, so mad he was almost tempted to go away right there, right now, but defintely that was not about Asahi-san.

(Yes, he was mad about Kyoto 2018, but he didn’t like to talk about Kyoto 2018.)

Before he could say anything to Futakuchi, he was interrupted by Ushijima-san, chief of the Prime Minister’s security, who kindly explained what they had to do, when they had to do it and where.

«Are we sure there’s no other accomodation?», Ennoshita begged when the room they had to share was shown.

«Yes, Ennoshita-kun, I am too very happy about being your roommate!»

***

Ennoshita wished he could disappear – _to be honest, it would have been nicer if Futakuchi fell from the stairs and died._ But apparently he had no intention whatsoever to fall or have a deadly accident.

«Stop thinking I should die.»

«I’m not thinking about it.»

«Then _this_ », he said, moving away his gun, «can point somewhere else.»

«I was just charging it.», Ennoshita replyed, putting it away.

Ennoshita looked at his reflection in the mirror and loosened his necktie. He was not thrilled to have to stand for hours, waiting for the Minister’s speech to be over and for him to cut some ribbon. Besides, during the last meeting Ushijima-san warned them to be extra careful.

«I didn’t remember you were so pretty in a suit.», Futakuchi observed, smirking.

Ennoshita turned his head to reply, but he almost choked, so he just hurried to leave the room.

 _He_ distinctly remembered how handsome Futakuchi could be in a suit. How distracting he could be – _how distracting he was._ But he also distinctly remembered how unnerving dealing with him was.

(Truth was that he wanted to stay away from Futakuchi because the last thing he needed was falling for his stupid game again – _because the last time he fell for it, just like a fool, and he was not interested in falling again. Mostly. Surely not like that. Not right then. But maybe- yes- if only-. If only Futakuchi wasn’t an absolute moron._ )

«You’re cute when you’re flustered.»

Ennoshita grunted. Of corse he would have followed him, they both were heading to the same destination and they would have to stand side by side for hours – _for two weeks –_ and he really couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

«I’m not flustered.», he denied. He just wanted to be left alone, was it too much to ask?

«But you’re cute.»

Ennoshita sighed. Maybe if he ignored him, he would stop.

***

_Or maybe not._

Knowing Futakuchi – _because he did know him, way too much, and he knew a tons of stupid detailes that were really useless, at that point –_ he should have realised ignoring him was just another way to fuel his determination to tease.

Just like a child, he loved attentions and when those attentions were denied he just pestered his victims until he got what he wanted.

So besides the boredom, the stiffness, Ushijima-san’s glares and the boiling heat, he also had to deal with Futakuchi’s attempt to get his interest. He had to bear his way too smooth flirts – _not blushing was hard –_ and his jokes about the Minster’s speech – _not laughing was even harder, because dealing with could be unnerving, sure, but could also be terribly fun. And he didn’t want it to be fun, he really didn’t. but he just couldn’t help it._

When they finally got back to their room, Ennoshita just dropped on hid bed and buried his head beneath the pillow, hoping to get a little bit of silence – _a little bit of peace._

«Ennoshita.», Futakuchi called, then collapsed on top of him. «I’m tired.»

«You’re _tiring_. And heavy. Get off.», he answered, turning while trying to pushing off the bed. He was so close – _too close_. His face was just a few centimeters away, because that idiot just shifted enough to let him turn, confident that he wouldn’t mind that proximity.

(Ennoshita did mind. Maybe not as much as he’d like to say, but he minded. He was uncomfortable. He wanted to punch him. Maybe he should have punched him, or at least had Tanaka to do it instead.)

He never really thought about it until then, but after his break up with Futakuchi he had no other relationship. He didn’t need it. Maybe he was so cought by his job (and by his disappointment, he was mainly cought by his disappointment) that he had not even enough time to worry about relationship. But Futakuchi saw life as his playfield – _teasing was just for fun, flirting was just for fun, their relationship was just a longer game –_ and Ennoshita didn’t want to focus on how many people he could have played with since they last were together.

«I’m worn out.», he repeated, shifting again to put his head on the pillow.

Ennoshita tried to push him away a little more, then he surrendered and kept staring angrily at the wall. He always thought Futakuchi was too buff to just be a technical support, and he had never wished more for him to be tiny, so he could just threw him across the room.

Then Futakuchi started stroking his hair-

«What are you doing?», Ennoshita asked. He was to fed up of this bullshit.

«I was checking if you still use the same conditioner.»

«Do you want to check if I still use the same toothpaste, too?», he added sarcastic.

Futakuchi reaction was unexpected. He got up immediately – _wasn’t he exhausted? –_ and sat on top of him.

«Can I?», he asked, and not waiting for an answer he came extremely close.

If only Ennoshita had the chance, he would have said a lot of different things, or at least he would have run away, ma since neither was possibile, he squeaked in panic. Then someone knocked on the door.

Futakuchi frowned, undecise on whether ignoring the knocking, increasingly louder, or pretend to be professional. Then he sighed and got off the bed. There was a member of the Minister’s security – Shirabu – waiting for him at the door. He glared at Futakuchi and then gave him a bunch of papers and a judging look.

«This is the updated schedule. All the appointments where you’ll be requested are highlighted.», he explained, then left.

Futakuchi close the door and scrolled absent-mindedly through the papers, completely ignoring both Ennoshita and the fact that they were about to kiss just a few minutes earlier.

«What was that?», Ennoshita asked, becuase there was no way he could let that slide. Because Futakuchi was a moron, and a dickhead and he could just leave him a alone since he was the one leaving him but for some reason he just didn’t – _which was not fun. Just infuriating. Sort of. He could have actually kissed him, at least._

«Mhh?», Futakuchi answered, distracted. «Ah! I wanted to kiss you. Can’t I do that?»

***

In the end Futakuchi wanted a little more then kissing him.

Despite being constantly surrounded by idiots, feeling like an idiot was a pretty new experience for Ennoshita. He felt (he perfectly knew) that it was his fault. He should have just firmly said that no, he couldn’t kiss him, not just snort after such a silly question, and he shouldn’t have let him come so close, and he most definetely shouldn’t have kissed him back – _but there was such a spontaneous intimacy in the way Futakuchi clinged to him while he was kissing his neck, leaving a couple of hickeys behind; in the way Futakuchi’s hands slipped under his shirt to touch him as if they’d never stop doing that, as if the last time wasn’t just a huge mistakes he had hoped to forget._

«We really shouldn’t do this.», Ennoshita whispered with short breath.

«I really think we should.», Futakuchi replied, pushing him on the bed and climbing on top of him.

_***_

Ennoshita couldn’t help but think it was akward – _it was wrong, to have a relationship like that._ Kissing him first thing in the morning was wrong, sharing a bed too small for the two of them was wrong. Pretending they didn’t have a conflicted past was wrong.

But.

But there was the way Futakuchi beamed when he actually listened to his bullshits, there were the silly fight Futakuchi had with the security members – _mostly Shirabu –_ , there was the illusions that thing could actually work, for once. And that was just in a couple of days.

Ennoshita knew he was still in love with him, despite actively proclaiming the opposite most days. He knew that he was still willing to forgive him and start over. He knew he deeply yearned for that. And yet sometimes he couldn’t get rid of the lingering fear that this was another mistakes, that when Futakuchi would have left him, Ennoshita would have had nothing but regrets.

He believed Futakuchi noticed that – _or maybe he was just making a weird face while thinking that –_ because more often then not he was whispering sweet nothings.

«I’m here.», he said softly.

 _I know._ He wanted to answer. _But for how long?_

It could be just like Kyoto. Just because Futakuchi had that weird effect on him, to make him forget why he should have hated him and remember why he loved him. He could pretend of buring the past two years and just enjoy the moment, his closeness. He could tell himself that it was okay. It would have been okay. They both wanted it to be okay.

But was it enough?

_***_

_Then there was the accident._

In his head Ennoshita called it “the accident”, because “vibe-check with death” was too much even for his standards.

There had been a few suspicious movements, a few day before the last big stage of the journey, everyone was aware of that. But since the Prime Minister only had to give a speech for a new exhibition at a national museum, nobody was expecting such a huge crowd.

Everyone but Futakuchi was extremely tense. Ennoshita didn’t really pay attention to him as he kept joking and messing around, because he had to be focused. And thank goodness he was focused, so he saw the attacker getting close to the stage to shoot and was able to stop the bullet. With his body. The criminal was arrested and then he knew nothing more about it because he was quickly brought to the nearest hospital.

The first thing he saw when he woke up after the operation – _nothing really that serious, just stitches on his right shoulder –_ was the flowers his collegues sent him, with a messy note where everyone tried to write their names. He smiled. A few moments later came a nurse who checked on him and advised him not to stress his shoulder until the stitches could be removed. Of course.

Then he was alone. He wished there was someone with him, to keep him updated on what the investigations showed, to tell him about the attacker, to distracted him from the thought that Futakuchi wasn’t there and he had no idea when – _or if –_ he would have seen him again.

Just like Kyoto.

The real problem, the thing that always got him so mad, the reason why they broke up the first and then second time, was that Futakuchi kept leaving. The night before he was there, and the morning after he wasn’t, and he didn’t pick up calls, and left messages unread, and they had such different schedules it was impossibile to meet him by chance. Ennoshita was sure he wasn’t actually trying to get back with, but he fell anyway. He always fell.

He should have seen it coming. He saw it coming, and that’s why he didn’t want to give in – _and he didn’t really give in. Sort of. In his head, he didn’t give in._ But-, well-, it would have been nice if Futakuchi was there. If Futakuchi worried about him.

«Sometimes i really hate you.», Futakuchi declared. He had some really deep dark circles and a almost empty bag of sour gummies in his hand.

Ennoshita tried not to smile.

«The attacker?», he asked instead, trying to seem professional – _because he was professional. Just easily distracted when Futakuchi was around._

«Kyoutani has been interrogating him for the past two days. He said that if he can’t manage to make him talk, he’ll have to call Yahaba.»

«I almost feel sorry for him.»

Futakuchi laughed, then the room fell silent.

Now that Futakuchi didn’t left, or stayed, or come back – _whatever –_ Ennoshita had no clue on how to act around him. No idea whether he could be happy or just brace himself for a disappointment. He didn’t know what to do.

«Did you had to catch that bullet?», Futakuchi asked, a scolding look on his face.

Ennoshita didn’t talk. «Were you-», Ennoshita hesitated for a moment, because the answer to his question had enough implication to give hima a headache. «Were you scared?»

«No.», Futakuchi immediately looked somewhere else – _yes._

« _Of course_ I wasn’t scared.», he specified a few moments later. «That’s our job, the very reason we were there. But someone else could have catched that bullet, someone like-»

«Futakuchi.»

«-Shirabu, right here.», he finished, pointing on Ennoshita’s forehead. Then Futakuchi’s finger reached his cheek and was indecise on whether caressing him or not – _Ennoshita would have really liked to be caressed in the moment, just to loosen the tension that was gripping his soul._ But Futakuchi had a second thought about it and pulled away his hand.

«I wasn’t scared.», he repeated. There was a calm resignation in his tone, as if he was repeating it more to convince himself then Ennoshita.

«You’ve always been reckless. For some reason. If someone got hurted during traing, that was you. If someone got injured during a mission, that was you. Do you remember Osaka? Even the baldy, the one that hates me, even he menaged not to get a single scratch. But you were covered in bruises.»

Ennoshita tried to fight the weight on his chest. Futakuchi was there _later._ After he decided to quit and leave, after he came back and begged to re-join, with a remorse that was still hunting him. That was the only way he knew to cope with that remorse. Try harder then the others. Getting more injured then the others.

«I wasn’t scared», Futakuchi kept talking even if he noticed his interior turmoil, «because I knew this could happen. For some reason, you always manage to get hurt and I just can’t understand why-», he said, ignoring the way Ennoshita tried to interrupt him, «for once, just for once, can’t someone else get hurt.»

 _He was angry._ Of course he was angry, Ennoshita should have known by the way he was squeezing the candy bag.

But how could Ennoshita explain him that was the only way he could feel worthy of working with his collegues? They beared through exhausting training, scratches, injuries, merciless weather – _and he left._ He packed his suitcase and went home. He unpacked his suitcase and told himself a comfortable desk job would have suited him better. He furiously stared at his emptied suitcase and just couldn’t put it away. So he packed his suitcase again and begged for permission to come back. Because he missed it – _because a desk job would have been more comfortable, yes, but it just didn’t suit him._

Futakuchi had no idea of this and he should have never known about this.

(But Futakuchi was staring at him with a painfully familiar harshness, the same way he looked at him before he left after a seven months reletionship, the same way he looked at him in Kyoto before leaving. There was something, in that harsh look, shouting that he would have left again.) (He didn’t know what to do.)

«I can’t not do it.», he simply explained. «I can’t let someone get hurt instead of me. Not even Shirabu.», he added, before Futakuchi could interrupt him. «Because otherwise I’d have no more reason to keep working.»

Futakuchi didn’t seem curious about his words – _he didn’t even seem interested? He just seemed angry? Tired? Annoyed? Ennoshita coul tell he was annoyed by the way his fingers were restlessly drumming._ (Maybe he didn’t knew what to do as well.)

«It is because you quitted, isn’t it?»

At first, Ennoshita just nodded, not even really noticing what he was saying. Then he widened his eyes and tried not to growl. Futakuchi laughed. Ennoshita thought that if he hadn’t been injured, he would have hit him. (There, now he knew what to do.)

«You know, baldy gets very talkative after the first beer.» Futakuchi revealed

Ennoshita should have objected that Tanaka only taled to him to insult him; he could have asked why he never told him he knew; he just wanted to shout against him because there were no reasons to laugh about it, bacause what to him was nothing but a joke was really the heaviest he carried. If at least he tried harder – _harder then the others, harder then anyone –_ that burden would have been lighter.

Ennoshita clenched his fistes and Futakuchi’s expression softened.

«Honestly, I don’t give a fuck. You left, okay, you’re not special. You’re not the first one who did it. There are worst guilt to live with. Sometimes people don’t come back – _they just leave._ »

Somehow Ennoshita knew they weren’t talk only about it anymore.

«You came back, didn’t you? That’s all that matters. You had a second thought about it – you _came back._ »

«You never did.», Ennoshita noticed.

Ennoshita couldn’t tell if Futakuchi’s look was a guilty one, because he was busy looking at the floor. Maybe he regretted breaking up, but those weren’t apologies, those weren’t even an explaination. It was just- just a fact.: one day he left and never showed up again.

«I was scared.», Futakuchi ammitted. «Not now.», he specified, «Because I did everything just for fun, I always did. Even my job, as challenging as it seems, it was all a big game for me. You took everything too seriously. At first I felt inadequate, then I realised you’d always be like, you’d always took the chance to die for someone else, if given. I was scared. Sometimes I hate you.»

«So you left.», Ennoshita said. There were topics that should forever be untouched in order to built a working relationship. But he was really to committ, this time, if he was really to stay, there were topics that Ennoshita just couldn’t leave untouched, because otherwise he would have never trusted him again.

(And maybe let out his frustration would have been good for him.)

«You left me with no explaination, I couldn’t even ask for one! Then you avoided me until we had to work as partners, then decided we could maybe try again? Then you left the day after? And now you almost done the same thing?»

In a James Bond film there were only shootings, luxury cars and action scenes. No gigantic idiots or sentimentally costipated cowards – _and if his life had been a James Bond film, it would have been so much easier, because he could just skipped to the next sequence where maybe there was no confrontation anymore. Maybe he should have been a director, not a secret agent._

«I’m certainly not running for the “Boyfriend of the year” award.», Futakuchi said, smiling openly.

«You’re not my boyfriend.»

«I could be.»

Well- yes- actually- of course he could. If he wanted. If he promised not to disappear, mostly. Ennoshita wasn’t sure about telling him, though. Flirting, kissing, even having sex was different from being officially in a reletionship.

«When I’ll be discharged», Ennoshita didn’t tell him it was the next day, «will I find you here?»

«If I were your boyfriend-»

«Futakuchi.»

«Yeah, yeah, of course I’ll be here. Where else am I suppose to go?»

***

The next afternoon, after his doctor insistently _advised_ him to rest, Ennoshita could come home.

He didn’t tell Futakuchi where he was, and he actually deserved it. Just a bit. Truth was that eventually he’d talk to him and forgive him and asked to be forgiven. Just not now, because he had controversial feelings about him and seeing Futakuchi could only worsen his confusion.

But a couple of hours later there he was, continously knocking on his door. Ennoshita didn’t feel ready to let him in, though. Then he saw the way he was pacing outside, his wounded – _scared?_ – expression, and just couldn’t help it. He open the door and Futakuchi threw himself at him, holding him and telling him he was nothing but a bastard and he should have really broke up with him.

«Is this how you felt when we broke up?»

«We didn’t break up. You broke up with me. Twice.»

« _I was scared._ That you didn’t want me back. That you changed your mind.»

«I never said i want you back.»

«Do you think I’m parcel post?»

« _You_ think you’re parcel post.»

Futakuchi pouted. Ennoshita just had to kiss him.

«I’m never going to leave again.», he promised. « _Mostly because I really want that “boyfriend of the year award”_.»

Ennoshita wasn’t sure if being this happy was a good thing – _he felt so relieved, like all the feelings ha had him, all the memories he couldn’t get rid of finally made sense, finally had a purpose._ He wasn’t scared to let himself in that reletionship anymore.


End file.
